Flying through a freshly falling sunset was a surreal sensation. One in which, unavoidably brought forth ponderings of the validity of such breathtaking colors displayed outside the small window. For the jet flew through the clouds made of pale white wisps, that nearly disappeared as the colors of the sky bled through the fragile cumuluses that lined the atmosphere. Rich tangerine oranges, that nearly made the sky look like a postcard from a Hawaiian resort at sundown, melding with the powdery cotton candy pink that tried to soften out the boldness of the bright orange. All entwined by the delicate swirl of something much darker, a gentle violet. Blurring the line between the blue of the day and the indigo of nightfall, creating a swirl in the cluster of clouds that stood strong amongst the other twirling colors.
Derek Morgan's eyes were drawn to the sight, just as all of his colleagues were at the beginning of their flight. Captivated by the mesmerizing image awaiting just on the other side of their windows, as they ventured further into the freshly painted canvas they called the sky. But just as everyone else, turning their attention back to their endless stack of books, paperwork or just a half hour of shut eye, Derek's eyes fell away from the beautiful sunset engulfing the air they soared seamlessly through. His gaze falling to his hands that rested loosely on top of his bent knee, his left sitting still beneath the table top, while his right was bent and rested gently against the edge. The heel of his boot pressing into the beige upholstery, but knowing it would pop back the moment he released the harsh pressure of his foot.
The dark denim of his well-worn jeans brushed against the side of his palms as he carefully twirled an object by the very pads of his fingertips. The lights were dimmed low in the jet on the flight back home, allowing for everyone to decompress and get some much needed rest, but there was still enough from the panels behind Derek's seat, that bounced off of the object. Reflecting back a glittering light, a twinkle like a small star shimmering through the darkening sky. It wasn't bright enough to truly cast it's light across any surface, but as it twirled slowly in Derek's fingers, it was bright enough to capture one's attention.
"She gave you the ring back?"
David Rossi's voice spoke up, carefully breaking through the comfortable silence that had settled over the interior of the jet. His voice was soft, not to call attention to the two men sitting in the back, but strong enough that it caused Derek's head to jerk up and look over to his right. His eyes that had been completely trained on the smooth silver band that balanced the glittering diamond, looked over quickly to catch Rossi's steady focus on the younger man and Derek began to wonder just how long he'd been watching him. Profiling him, no doubt.
Derek swallowed a deep breath, feeling his adam's apple bob as he rested his head back against the seat. "She didn't know if she could do it anymore."
David Rossi's left hand released it's loose hold on the clear scotch glass, as he reclined back into his seat and turned as he listened to Derek speak. "Didn't know if she could do what? Marry you?"
Derek grimaced slightly, but exhaled a breath as he expanded on his initial response. "She didn't know if she could marry an agent, if she could truly be a cop's wife."
"And maybe she's right Rossi," Derek shrugged his shoulders. The sleeves of his dark charcoal tee pulling up on his biceps slightly from the movement, feeling the rush of air conditioning over the exposed flesh where the dark ink of his tattoo peeked out. "she's been with me for two years and she's had to put up with and go through way more than I ever wanted her to have to. It isn't fair to her Rossi, she didn't chose this life."
"She didn't chose being afraid for her own safety, because some insane unsub decided to shoot up our house to shake me up. She didn't chose being afraid for my life when I leave for a few days, I can see what those news stories do to her Rossi. She tries to hide it and I don't like to tell her about all of the horrors of my day, but there's things she's always going to find out. And I can see it, those little details or the idea of me being held at gunpoint or driving away a bomb, the way they're starting to chip away at her."
